A Fresh Start, A Clean Slate
by Rauxchelle
Summary: Draco is in dire need of friend, someone who understands why he's a whirlwind of emotions. However, when he starts receiving cards from an unknown entity, he retreats into his shell and takes it all back. Post-War. Dramione.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Draco watched attentively as the raindrops raced against each other on the only window pane of his small home which he acquired after the war.

 _"I want a fresh start." Draco said, as he held his mother's hand, whilst Lucius stood by them and listened intently without displaying an ounce of emotion on his face._

 _"You don't want to live with us anymore?" asked Narcissa, her voice threatening to break._

 _"I just want to get away from here and clear my head, Mother."_

 _"But in Muggle London?"_

 _Draco sighed and squeezed his mother's hand reassuringly. "It's the best place to start."_

 _"If that's what you want, then it's alright with me. I want you to be happy. It's just your father who has to approve."_

 _He turned to look at Lucius, whose eyes betrayed no emotion. Draco almost expected to be shouted at, to be called a disgrace and be disowned by his own father. But what Lucius did next puzzled Draco and Narcissa both. He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and looked at him, eyes almost glossy and said, "Do what you have to do, son."_

Draco absent-mindedly started to scratch his left arm, where that ghastly mark used to exist. He distinctly remembered when Voldemort had fallen, much to the displeasure of his devotees.

 _Cheers echoed throughout as they celebrated their victory. Draco watched, leaning against a wall, trying to figure out a way to disappear. Never had he felt so out of place before._

 _He was about to turn away when he heard someone call him out and was surprised to find that it was Harry._

 _He was confused. What would Harry have to say to him after all that he'd done to them? He was expecting a punch and was getting prepared to receive the blow but instead, Harry reached out his hand towards Draco for him to shake, which he hesitantly returned._

 _No words were exchanged but the message was obvious. All was forgiven._

Draco continued watching the raindrops compete against each other, eventually merging into one as they reached the bottom of the window pane. He thought it was rather splendid and pondered over how he had overlooked all the beautiful things in front of him those past few years. Sighing, Draco turned away from the window and looked around his lonely home. It was unorganized; papers strewn across the floor here and there, unwashed dishes on the kitchen counter and a single sofa lying forlorn in the furthest part of the living room.

Draco didn't bother to make his home look pleasing; who was going to come visit him, anyway? He didn't know anyone in Muggle London. Except for Harry, Ron and Hermione.

 _'As if they would come,'_ thought Draco bitterly.

He recalled when he met all three of them a few weeks ago in a furniture shop not too far from where he lives.

 _Draco was eyeing fancy sofa sets and chandeliers, shocked that Muggles lived lavish lifestyles as well. He rounded the corner of a bookshelf when he suddenly bumped into someone._

 _"Sorry about that," he heard the person speak in an all-too-familiar voice._

 _Draco lifted his head and widened his eyes as he made eye-contact with Harry._

 _"Potter?"_

 _"Malfoy."_

 _"What are you doing here?"_

 _"Interesting question, Malfoy. Just what do you do in a furniture shop?" said Harry in a mocking tone, albeit free from malice._

 _Draco was about to respond when suddenly,_

 _"Harry! Oi! You walk too fast! Honestly, can't you wait for at least a sec- oh, Malfoy."_

 _"Weasley." Draco acknowledged as he tried to smile but couldn't get his cheek muscles to work._

 _"Malfoy in Muggle London. That's a hoot."_

 _"Ron." said Harry, indirectly telling him to back down. "So what are you doing here, Malfoy?"_

 _"I'm looking for a fresh start."_

 _"Fresh start, he says."_

 _"Ron!"_

 _"My bad, just used to exchanging insults with the ferret. That's all."_

 _"Yes, Weasley. A fresh start. Surely, you know what that it is. So I've met two-thirds of the Golden Trio, where's know-it-all?"_

 _"In the book store. As always." replied Harry._

 _"Oh."_

 _An awkward silence ensued amongst all three of them next, all wondering how to continue their conversation or if they should continue it at all._

 _"Well," Draco piped up. "I'll best be off then. Pleasure seeing you-"_

 _"HARRY! RON! I FOUND IT! I FOUND THE BOOK!"_

 _Draco shifted his eyes towards the source of exclamation and was not too surprised to see Hermione waving a thick book in her hand._

 _"I knew it would be here. I just knew- oh. What's he doing here, Harry?"_

 _Draco felt a slight pang of annoyance as Hermione refused to acknowledge his presence and blatantly ignored him. With a slightly bruised ego, he glared at Hermione. Sure he was being immature, but give him a break; they weren't exactly the best of friends._

 _With a slight smile on his face, Harry replied "He's looking for a fresh start, Hermione."_

 _"Well, that's news."_

 _"Yes, well, that's news to everyone now, isn't it?" Draco replied in a harsh tone, obviously annoyed by the fact that nobody believed him. "Now, if you don't mind at all, which I'm fairly sure you don't as I see you all are unnerved by the mere sight of me, I'll be leaving."_

 _Just as he was about to turn away, a hand reached out to stop him and he was shocked to see that it was Hermione's._

 _"Malfoy, since you're insistent that you want to start afresh, why don't you do just that by joining us for lunch?"_

 _Merlin, why was she so annoying?_

 _"That's nice, Granger. But I honestly don't think that-"_

 _"That's a great idea." said Harry to which Ron responded with a whispered "What? Are you out of your mind?"_

 _"Potter, you can't be-"_

 _"Do join us, Malfoy. Ginny will be there as well."_

 _"I don't think it would be right to-"_

 _"Yes, Harry. It wouldn't be right."_

 _"Ronald! Don't be so rude."_

 _"But Hermione-"_

 _"Okay." said Draco._

 _"Okay what?" Harry prodded._

 _Running a hand hand through his hair, Draco finally said "I'll join you for lunch."_

 _"Brilliant!"_

 _"Harry!" exclaimed a slightly exasperated Ron._

 _"Do follow us, Malfoy. Just a few blocks ahead is the best restaurant in town."_

 _"Wait, you mean you want to have lunch right now?"_

 _"Of course. Now come along."_

 _Harry and Hermione walked out of the furniture shop, followed by Ron who mumbled incoherent things under his breath. Draco rolled his eyes and followed them out, wondering what he had gotten himself into._

 _And so they had lunch, which consisted of Harry and Ginny asking Draco a million questions, Ron still muttering things under his breath, and Hermione staring at Draco intently as if trying to figure him out. Unnerved by the constant staring, Draco turned to Hermione and said "I know I'm a fine sight, Granger, but do take a picture if you want, it will last longer," receiving a glare from Ron, a giggle from Ginny, an amused sigh from Harry and a hesitant smile from Hermione._

 _After lunch was over, which Draco thanked Merlin for, they parted ways. Except for Hermione. Obviously._

 _"Malfoy?"_

 _"Yes, Granger? Would you like to take that picture of me now?"_

 _Ignoring Draco's snark, Hermione asked "Do you live around here?"_

 _"Why do you ask?"_

 _"Just curious."_

 _"No offense, Granger, but you aren't exactly my type."_

 _"Oh don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. It's just a question."_

 _"Do you honestly think I'd let you in on my location of residence? You'd probably try to break in and hex me."_

 _Hermione huffed indignantly and replied, "Malfoy, if you don't want to tell me, you should have just said so in the first place. I don't even know why I bothered asking." And with that, Hermione abruptly turned away._

 _Before Draco could stop himself, however, he blurted out "It's a grey house with a green picket-fence, Granger. Surely you'll be able to single it out."_

 _"Alright. See you around, Malfoy."_

 _"Right."_

But she didn't see him around. For she never visited him.

Draco continued to look around his solitary abode. He wouldn't admit it, but he really wanted someone to talk to; someone who wouldn't judge him for what he'd done in the past.

Draco's thoughts were interrupted when he heard the mail slot of his front door make a squeaky noise.

 _'Now who would send me mail?'_ he thought aloud.

Walking towards the front door, he noticed a single envelope and inspected it from afar. He prodded it with a stick to make sure that nothing would jump out of it and when he was satisfied that he wasn't going to get attacked, he picked the envelope up and tore it open to find a plain card with a note on it. In neat handwriting, it said _'Madam Laurie's Tea Shop. Today. Four o' clock.'_

Draco turned the card over to see if anyone had signed it but no one did. ' _Is this some kind of joke?'_

He narrowed his eyes and abruptly threw the card into the trash can. Draco was annoyed, not because he had no clue who sent it, but because whoever sent it literally _demanded_ him to be at Madam Laurie's, and _no one_ demands a Malfoy.

Or so he thought.

* * *

The next day, Draco received another card.

This time it read _'You are extremely rude, however I've decided to wave it off. Madam Laurie's. Today. Four o' clock. Be there.'_

Draco snorted, blew a raspberry and once more threw the card in the trash can.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Draco kept on receiving cards, each telling him the same thing: to be at Madam Laurie's. Four o' clock.

Except each successive card held more vexation in it, with the sender calling him a dozen of colourful names. To be frank, he was amused. He didn't mind the fact that this person wouldn't leave him alone; he reveled in the fact that someone actually wanted to see him, to talk to him, and yet he wasn't giving the light of the day.

 _'I'm a hypocrite.'_ thought Draco. Just a few days ago he was whining about how lonely he was, and now since someone wants to have a chit-chat with him, suddenly he just isn't interested.

He looked through the pile of cards he had received and wondered if he should actually visit this mysterious secret admirer of his ( _Of course_ it was a secret admirer, who else would demand for his oh-so-wonderful presence?).

 _'No, definitely not going to do that.'_

And with his decision made, he threw the card he received that day into the trash can. Again.

* * *

He didn't receive cards the next few days though, and he was starting to get anxious. Perhaps, he had exasperated the sender to oblivion and she (Yes, _she,_ because secret admirers of Draco are always girls and not boys - or so he thought) has decided to give a taste of his own medicine?

 _'I don't care.'_ he thought. _'I really, really don't.'_

And with that in mind, he plopped himself onto the sofa and watched some tele-vee-jun. Whatever it's called.

* * *

Draco sat by the front door the next day, eagerly waiting for an envelope to slip past through the mail slot (he admits it, he cares) but to no avail. It'd been five hours and still no mail.

He was getting frustrated. Was this person doing it on purpose?

Draco ran a hand through his hair and had an internal debate with himself as to whether he should just go to Madam Laurie's and settle this once and for all. This debate involved a few self-slaps, occasional hair-pulling and talking to himself like a deranged pygmy puff.

He finally stood up and patted down his clothes as he came to a decision.

He was going to Madam Laurie's today.

* * *

 _'You're a dolt. But a good-looking dolt.'_ Draco thought to himself as he pushed past the doors to Madam Laurie's. It was exactly four o' clock.

He looked through the crowd of people sitting, munching and talking with their mouths full, wondering where his enthusiastic fan could be.

He waited for about fifteen minutes and soon came to the conclusion that this had all just been a prank, a mischievous act devised by those who still loathe him for his previous behavior and who wish to humiliate him for the pain he'd caused; how foolish he was to think that someone actually wanted to converse with him!

Draco was about to leave when he felt someone grab his hand and turned around to see that it was Hermione. Again.

 _'Honestly. This woman just loves to grab me whenever she pleases, doesn't she?'_

 _'Wait, that sounds wrong. I take it back.'_

"You finally came."

"What?"

"I should've known you were too proud to do what anyone tells you to do."

"What are you talking about, Granger?"

"The cards? They were from me. I just wanted to have a conversation with you to, you know, catch up. I guess. I was curious as to why you suddenly decided to start a clean slate. I thought that maybe I could help in some way. I didn't sign the cards because I knew you wouldn't come if you knew it was me. I mean, imagine that. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger having a civil conversation. That's a laugh. I thought that maybe you'd come if the cards weren't signed. To satisfy your curiosity. Oh Merlin, that sounded perverse. What I meant was-"

"Granger, calm down."

"Sorry, I just-"

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

Draco rolled his eyes. She wasn't best friends with Harry for nothing.

"Okay, we'll talk, if you wish. Though, I'd prefer it if it weren't too civil. I really don't do civil." Draco said in his usual drawl, obviously trying to irk the girl in front of him.

But she wasn't annoyed. Instead, she smiled at him with those magnificent pearly whites and motioned him to a table where she took her seat across from him.

"If I didn't know better, Granger, I'd say you're slightly infatuated with me."

"Oh do keep it to yourself, Malfoy."

And for the first time in a long time, Draco didn't feel so alone.

* * *

 **Author's Note: This is originally a one-shot, but if I do get enough requests, I might turn it into a multi-chaptered fic.**

 **Constructive criticism is welcome as always and I would absolutely love reviews. Ciao!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I decided to turn this into a multi-chaptered fic! Thanks so much for the reviews, favs and follows!**

* * *

Meeting up at Madam Laurie's became a weekly routine for Draco and Hermione, much to Ron's displeasure. In fact, Ron was so put out one day that he suggested Hermione to "marry the ferret and have ferret babies to increase the rodent population." This, of course, was met with Hermione throwing dozens of inanimate objects at him -which Ron skillfully dodged-, shouting a colourful array of impertinent insults his way, and storming out the front door of the Burrow.

"You're fuming." Draco pointed out to her as she added five dollops of sugar into her tea. She hadn't spoken to him at all, except for acknowledging him with a curt nod and it was starting to get on his nerves.

"I'm not." Hermione took a sip of her tea and inwardly gagged. Too sweet. She picked up a crumpet and bit into it, pretending it was the head of a certain ginger.

"Definitely fuming."

"Lay off it, Malfoy."

"Granger, I don't know if you remember but you're the one who practically begged for this little chat. I'll have you know that I actually made the effort to free up some space in my busy schedule for this, so _kindly_ do me the honour of returning the favour by boring me with your personal issues because I am _not,_ and I repeat, I am _not_ going to waste my precious time watching you devour that crumpet like an ogre." Draco paused. "However, if it's about your time of the month, then I'm not interested."

Hermione listened to his tiny, almost monotonous speech with the crumpet half-way through her mouth, annoyed by his persistence and somewhat surprised that he actually admitted to fitting this little _meeting_ into his 'busy schedule'. She knew it was unfair that she was taking up his time like this when he probably had other important things to do. Sighing, she put her crumpet down and said, "It's Ron. He's not too pleased about, well, all _this."_ She waved a hand around the table they were seated in.

Draco rolled his eyes at her. That was _it?_ "It's called being solicitous of one's amour, Granger. Honestly, are you that dense? Aren't you and Weasley romantically involved? He's just afraid that I might use my charm on you and steal you away from him. Which I'm not, mind you, going to pursue. I told you that you aren't exactly my type, you know."

Hermione gritted her teeth at him. _'Such a prat.'_ she thought. "To answer your questions, Malfoy. No, I am _not_ dense. And no, Ron and I aren't _romantically involved,_ as you put it. I mean, we used to be. Not anymore, though." She looked away from Draco and stared out the window, suddenly feigning interest in a lamp-post.

Draco noticed the poignant look in her eyes before she turned away from him and almost felt bad. _Almost._ "Well, that's a bit of a shock. What happened? Were you too rigid in bed?"

Hermione turned her head sharply to look at him. "Malfoy! How _dare_ you insinuate that I-"

"It's called a joke, Granger. Know what that is? Something a person tells to another person so that the latter would laugh?" Draco inwardly flinched as she continued glaring at him. "Well, I'll take that as a no. So, tell me. Why aren't you in an amorous entanglement with Weasley?"

Hermione huffed and thought about it for a while. She didn't want to open up to Draco. Not yet, anyway. The nerve of him to ask such personal questions irritated her to oblivion. But _she_ was the one who asked for this, this one-on-one conversation with him. Still, he had absolutely no right. "No offense, Malfoy. But I don't believe it's any of your business."

"Touchy. I see I'm treading impermissible waters. And here I thought we were acquaintances, if not friends."

Hermione bit back a smile. "We aren't friends."

"That's what I said. And yet, here we are. Having tea and crumpets like good old _friends._ " Draco emphasized the last word, purposefully trying to get on Hermione's nerves. Hermione, however, was quick to notice and said, "Honestly, Malfoy. If you wanted a friend, all you had to do was _ask_." Draco spluttered his tea out and glared at her but could only do so for a short bit of time as she seemed amused by his response, which he didn't like at all. Not one bit. _No one mocks a Malfoy._

"Conniving little wench. Now look what you've done." He pointed towards the spot on his shirt where a tea stain had developed. "This shirt cost galleons."

"Oh do come off your contemptuous demeanor, Malfoy. I _know_ you long for someone to talk to. If you didn't, then you wouldn't have dropped by a few weeks back."

"The only reason I came is because I thought I had a secret admirer." Draco said quickly, focusing intently on the spot as he tried to hide the rush of blood to his cheeks (he wouldn't admit that he was blushing because, after all, _Malfoys don't blush)._

"Really?"

"Really." But he wasn't really paying attention to her now. He was trying to remove that stubborn stain with a dampened tissue rather furiously. "It's not coming off!"

"Here, let me do it." Hermione grabbed Draco's hand, ignored his look of surprise and took out her wand. "Granger, _the muggles will see."_ Draco whispered alarmingly. "I don't know if you've noticed at all, Malfoy. But they aren't particularly interested in us." And with that being said, she pointed her wand at the stain and it disappeared.

"All done."

"Right. You can let go of my hand now, Granger."

"Oh, sorry." Hermione dropped his hand as if it burned her. "Wouldn't want to taint your pristine hands with my mudblood germs." She quickly brought her hands to her mouth and widened her eyes. She hadn't meant to say that at all; she was merely taking her previous anger out on him. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I don't know what had gotten into me-"

"It's fine, Granger. It really is." Draco said, ignoring the slight twinge of pain her words had caused him. "I expected that, anyway. I'm not- I'm not as prejudiced as I was before, though." He looked away from her and started fiddling with his fingers. "I realized that this blood prejudice didn't make sense at all, and it was most definitely not worth my time." He snuck a peek at Hermione. "Do close your mouth, Granger. It isn't very appealing."

"I can't believe this. Draco Malfoy has the ability to _feel._ I never pegged you as empathic."

"Retreat that sharp tongue of yours right now, Granger." Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "And besides, the Pureblood lineage isn't going to last for very long what with all the inbreeding so… Nice weather today, isn't it?" He tried to steer away from the subject as he took a sip from his tea.

"You'd have to marry one of your cousins."

Draco once again spluttered out his tea, narrowly missing his shirt by a few inches and sneered at her.

"You really should learn to keep things in your mouth, Malfoy." Hermione grinned.

"You first, Granger."

Silence suddenly engulfed the atmosphere surrounding the unlikely pair but neither of them seemed to mind. It was, as though, they felt comfortable in each other's presence. It was queer, but it was tranquil. It was odd, but it was pleasant. It was-

"Sir, would you like to order anything else?" Hermione and Draco turned to look at a waitress who was standing extremely close to the latter, bosom out and all, as she fluttered her eyes flirtatiously at him. Obviously what she asked was a double entendre. Draco, however, was unfazed and said, "No, thank you. I'm fine."

Hermione held back a giggle as the waitress put on a distressed face and asked again "Are you sure?", this time leaning against the table so that both of them could get a better look at her assets. Draco narrowed his eyes at her and said, "Would you like me to spell it out for you-" he paused and took a closer look at her name tag, "Janelle?"

'Janelle' gaped at his response but quickly composed herself and said, "No. Very well, sir. However, if you change your mind, you know what to do." He was about to ask her what she meant when she suddenly slipped a crumpled piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt, gave him a saucy wink and sauntered off. He took out the paper and skimmed through it.

"Granger, she just gave me her address. Why would she do that? Are muggles always like this? Giving their address away like- _why are you smirking_? That's my job!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow and shook her head at him. "Are you that dense, Malfoy?"

"What?"

"That waitress. She could care less about your order."

"What do you mean?"

"She was _flirting_ with you. Stop pretending as if you didn't notice. From what I've heard, girls were always at your beck and call."

"Contrary to popular belief, Granger. I was never really well-liked among females. I am rather finicky. I have a particular liking to certain attributes in women, you know, and whiny brats are most certainly not included in my figurative book of likable traits in the opposite sex."

 _'But you are a whiny brat.'_ Hermione thought to herself. She watched as he threw the piece of paper aside and she took a peek over his shoulder to find that Janelle had been watching them all along. She was angry, Hermione could tell, flushing from her forehead to who knows where underneath her uniform. Janelle narrowed her eyes at her, flicked her long blonde hair and disappeared behind the counter. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at Draco to find that he was rummaging through a newspaper in his hands. She took the opportunity to really assess him. His hair was long but not too long - with bangs falling over his forehead and almost reaching his eyes; he ditched the gel, as far as she could tell. His eyes were sunken in, obviously from lack of sleep, and his cheeks were hollow.

"I'd appreciate it if you would stop undressing me with your eyes, Granger."

Hermione snapped out of her analytical reverie and glared at him. "I _wasn't._ " That git.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Draco smirked. "What _does_ help you sleep at night, Granger?"

"Shut up."

"Your eloquence is intriguing."

"I will hex you."

"It isn't in your nature to-" Draco's words were cut off when he noticed his ears twitching uncontrollably.

"Granger."

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Make it stop."

"No."

" _Make it stop."_

 _"No."_

And so the rest of the afternoon consisted of them bickering back and forth, each silently casting hexes at each other until one of them called truce. Of course, no one did. Until Draco missed and cast a spell on one of the customer's plates, thus causing it to grow legs and run off.

* * *

The sound of a rolled up piece of paper being thrown into a dustbin, followed by a grunt of frustration could be heard resounding off the walls of Draco's home. He was sitting at his desk, trying to compose a letter to his parents for the past two hours.

 _Dear Mother and Father,_

 _Muggle London is great._

No. Too cheery.

 _Dear Mother and Father,_

 _I like it here._

Gah.

Draco got up from his seat, walked around his bedroom and scrutinized it. It was too messy and very un-Malfoy-like. If his mother saw the state his room was in, she'd probably chide him. He was so used to having house elves bend to his every whim. _'House elves.'_ All of a sudden, he started thinking about Hermione. And about S.P.E.W. And about the last few weeks. And about the fun they had today. _'Wait, fun? Forget I even said that.'_ He was thinking real hard as to whether he should tell his parents about the unlikely alliance he has with her. _'They'd probably hurl and ask me to come back to the manor right this instant. Or they'd probably scream for joy and congratulate me for finally getting rid of that stick of arrogance up my prestigious behind. Maybe. I don't know. Stupid, annoying Granger. She's making my head hurt.'_

And then, he was lost. Completely lost.

 _'I'm associating with Granger. Granger, out of all people. G-r-a-n-g-e-r. One-third of that infuriating Golden Trio. Gryffindork. Bushy-haired bookworm. Merlin, maybe I've lost it.'_

He scuffled around his room, pulled at his hair and rubbed his eyes out. _'I've officially gone barmy.'_ He sat back in his chair and started to scribble furiously.

 _Dear Mother and Father,_

 _Muggle London is great. I like it here. My entire home's a mess, though. Haven't bothered to make it look nice with fancy furniture and all. I met Potter, Weasley and Granger a few weeks ago. They were surprised to see me here. So surprised that they invited me for lunch. I said no but obliged afterwards as I couldn't escape their persistence. Well, Potter and Granger's persistence. Weasley wasn't too pleased to see me because he still feels inferior, I guess. Lunch was alright. I was happy when it was finally over, though._

 _Other than that, it's been quite nice here. I haven't been sneered at even once because no one knows me. It feels free and very blissful._

 _I miss you both. So much. A lot. As you can see, staying here has made me very sappy. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would actually miss someone. But I miss you both. Don't tell anyone I said that._

 _Well, that's pretty much all I have to say for now. Emphasis on 'for now'. Yes, Mother. I'll send you more letters. Don't you worry._

 _It's late so I'm off to bed._

 _I miss you both._

 _Love,_

 _Your son._

 _P.S. I'm_ _allies with Hermione Granger._

 _P.P.S. Yes, the war heroine. The girl who I used to loathe with every fiber of my being. That one._

* * *

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